Chapter 22 Evie
EVIE
We meet at the small burrito hut down the road. The once-red umbrellas are bleached from years in the sun, as are the multicolored flags, but they have the best food. I crunch on chips and freshly made salsa as Tempest slips into the chair across from me with our baskets.
“Thank fuck you responded to me,” she says, sliding my burrito across the weather-worn table before digging into hers. “I was beginning to think I’d have to sit in on one of your classes just to get you to talk to me.”
“I haven’t been that bad,” I protest, taking a bite. The sweet potatoes blend perfectly with rich spices and pops of cilantro, and I make a mental note to bump this place up on my regular takeout list.
“Girl, you disappeared. We had a great night at the club, and then you vanished.” Tempest takes a sip of water, lifting her shoulder in forced nonchalance. “Did anything happen after I left?”
“Nothing of importance.”
“Really? Not even between you and my brother?”
“No,” I say much too quickly.
She lifts a brow. “It’s okay if it did, but I want to warn you. Silas isn’t a nice guy. He’s the best big brother I could ask for and one hell of a friend, but he destroys women.”
Yes, he does, I think, as I stuff my face with another bite to avoid answering.
“All I’m saying is… be careful.” I make a noncommittal noise that seems to satisfy her before Tempest continues. “Oh, and if you do lose your virginity to him, I don’t want to know the details.”
The sip of water I’d been taking gets caught in my throat. I sputter and cough as Tempest looks me over with a bemused grin.
“Noted,” I mutter around the blush creeping down my throat. Desperate to shift the focus of our conversation, I jerk my chin toward the stack of books crowding her half of the table. “How are classes going? Pre-med, right?”
“O-chem is kicking my ass.” She groans. “Of course Erik is top of the class and has insisted we study together.”
She wrinkles her nose, but I swear I see subtle hints of excitement in her eyes before she rushes on.
“Biochem and pathophys are easy, but then it all goes to shit in organic chemistry. Like, hydrophobic proteins can’t pass through a hydrophilic barrier without aid—that makes sense—but o-chem is straight up memorization.
How am I supposed to remember all the fucking proteins and their structures? It’s completely ridiculous.”
I shrug around a laugh. “Tell me about it. The memorization is endless.”
“What is your major?” Tempest asks around a bite of her burrito.
The food settles in my stomach like a heavy rock. “I planned on majoring in Marine Biology.”
“Oh cool,” Tempest says, eyes going wide. “Wait, what do you mean planned? Are your parents making you switch or something?”
“Or something,” I mumble at first, not wanting to admit that I have less than three months of freedom. But Tempest waits patiently until I’m ready to continue. “My parents are pulling me from courses after this semester.”
Tempest lowers her half-eaten burrito, mouth open. It takes her a moment to find the words, but when she speaks it’s with forced calm. “Is this a religious thing? I know your family is strict, but there are more churches on campus than any other university.”
I shake my head, the action feeling like a lie. “Maybe in part, but they’d never deny Jonathan a degree if he wanted one.”
“Your brother?” Tempest asks, her mask of icy control so similar to Silas’s.
“Half-brother. The golden boy himself.” My phone flashes from inside my bag.
I glance down at the notification to find Jonathan has written a paragraph describing what he considers proper attire for family functions.
After skimming the first few lines, I delete the chain and flip my phone over.
“In fact, that was him confirming I’ll be at lunch tomorrow. ”
“That’s totally fucked,” Tempest snaps, her anger breaking through. “They can’t stop you from attending school.”
A strangled laugh escapes me as I lean back in my chair, delicious food forgotten.
“Yes, they can. They’re the ones paying for this.
Even if I tried to do this on my own, they’re claiming me as a dependent, meaning I won’t qualify for loans.
I’ve priced it out, and I might be able to cover tuition if I worked full-time, picked up a second job over school breaks, and managed to get a scholarship, but then I’d have no time for classes.
Let alone studying. And that’s not even touching books, housing, or food. ”
“Shit, Evie,” Tempest says. “You can stay at our place for as long as you need. Free of charge. And for all the rest of it… we’ll figure it out.”
“I doubt Silas would be okay with that. Or the rest of the Seven,” I add.
Tempest waves off my concern before wrapping up what’s left of her food to take back with us. “They’re not as scary as they seem.”
“I thought you told me to stay away?” I counter, wanting to know if I’m completely losing it or if there really might be more to Silas.
I keep replaying that night in the canyon over and over again when I’m alone in my room and the house is quiet.
I remember the way Silas used Mark’s face to get me off.
The way he hunted me down and could’ve taken me there, on the edge of the cliff. He could’ve let me fall—but he didn’t.
Silas murdered a man for touching me, but he still gave me a choice in it all. Sort of. Which is more than any man has done for me. Or maybe I’m so far past the point of knowing what healthy looks like that I’ve romanticized a monster.
“I told you to be careful as far as dating goes,” Tempest says, hands up in surrender.
“The Seven are harmless when it comes to me, but they each have their demons. Erik’s pride eats at him, pushing him to be perfect.
Noctis likes to have all the information before committing to something, meaning he’ll be single forever.
Mavros has anger problems. Adrian is like a dragon weighed down by its greed, while Bane is more gluttonous—he doesn’t covet items, but he can never seem to find a healthy point of stopping.
Dominic will fuck any consenting adult, and then there’s… ”
“Silas,” I finish for her. “Let me guess. He can be a little possessive?”
“Envious of everyone for anything,” Tempest says, her piercing gaze seeing far too much. “Though lately, all his attention has been focused on you. Even his paintings.”
I shift, fidgeting with my shirt as we push to stand. Tempest must glean something in my silence, because she links her arm with mine as we start back toward the house with leftovers for later.
“Ever been to L.A.?”